Rain
by chasingbutterflies01
Summary: Rain washes away the collected grime, and reveals the truth underneath. What will it do to Bellatrix Lestrange?
1. Chapter 1

NOTE: This is set immediately after Harry's fifth year.

The rain fell indiscriminately.

Petunia Dursley, standing on her doorstep, shivered and fretted. She'd told Dudley to take a coat, but he hadn't listened to her. He never listened to her anymore. For a moment she was motionless, gazing across the street in hopes of finding a boy she'd never really known, then silent as a wraith she turned on her heel and went back into the house.

Twenty miles away, Vernon Dursley grunted as he tossed aside another useless Grunnings report. Looking out a window was far too sentimental an action for him to condone, and so he didn't even notice the rain.

Dudley's gang shouted expletives as the water came down and ushered their victims off the streets. Unwilling to go home, they stomped into a nearby pharmacy, where the store owner looked up in alarm and silently prayed that they would go home soon.

"Rain!" shouted the Weasley twins, "Rain in the summer!" Delighted, they ran around outside whooping and swallowing raindrops and allowing the mist to break over their skins.

_Rain_, thought Hermione Granger, her palm pressed against the windowsill. Rain was cleansing. She suddenly remembered a black dog romping in the rain, and her lips quirked upward. Her father, passing by the door, caught her smile and quickened his pace to tell his wife the news. Ever since she'd come home that summer, Hermione had been morose somehow, aching in a way they could not understand. But she could still smile, and so they had something to aim for.

Harry Potter had fallen asleep on a park bench, and before the rain, parents had kept their children close and given the adolescent a wide berth. Now the park was deserted, and the water slid down Harry's cheek like so many tears. He did not wake.

Draco Malfoy sat huddled on his bed, knees clutched to the chest. The curtains were drawn, but the air held a certain chilliness and moisture and the rain became yet another thing he tried to hide from.

In their underground stronghold, the Death Eaters moved relentlessly, ignoring the rain. When they strode out, black-robed and savage, a few growled words with a wand ensured that the drops did not dare to touch them. Voldemort, ensconced deep inside the fortress, noticed nothing at all.

Albus Dumbledore was not so oblivious. He was talking on the grounds with Hagrid when the rain began, and his face took on a momentary look of confusion. "Something wrong, Sir?" asked Hagrid. Dumbledore jerked himself out of his thoughts. "Nothing, nothing, Hagrid," he said soothingly. "There's a taste of magic, that's all. But nothing malevolent."

In a remote, abandoned village, Bellatrix Lestrange moved alone, on her master's orders. Upon seeing the gathering clouds, she had already cast _Impervio_ but somehow the rain fell through her shields anyway, and she was drenched to the skin. There was a clap of thunder above the village, and the downpour lashed upon her with a vengeance, and she was suddenly aware of a figure in front of her.

Please review! This is my first hp fanfiction so I'd love feedback :D


	2. Chapter 2

Finally Bellatrix's day was looking up. She fingered her wand as she peered through the rain at her new victim, contemplating which curse to use. It would have to be a particularly nasty one, to make up for the indignity this rain was causing her—although to be fair, straggly hair and seeped black velvet possibly enhanced her resemblance to a demented witch from some poor child's nightmares—the Transmogrifian Torture, maybe?

She decided to engage in maniacal laughter before the curse, since the victim would probably be in too much pain to fully appreciate it afterwards, and used the time to catch a glimpse of the figure. The rain was rather obscuring, but she saw a small silhouette, a wave of black hair. Excellent, this little girl could die seeing her bedtime fears come to life. She waved her wand and shouted, "Extendam Dolor!"

Dark purple smoke encased the girl, and Bellatrix leaned forward waiting to see her buckle in pain, but instead the smoke vanished and the child cupped her hands. The rain slowed to a careful drip. It was as if Bellatrix's vision was clearing after the heavy torrents. She saw the fragility of the figure before her, skin like china and ebony hair and she wanted to rush forward and shatter her, smash her to the ground like a broken doll but something kept her in place and it must all be in her head because she could not accept a child having the power to bind her in place although her magic had been malfunctioning and she had entered a crouch, panicked but deadly, and her lips bared and a guttural noise ripped forwards from her throat—

"Why?" the girl asked. As the rain cleared her gaze had been fixed forward, aimed hungrily towards Bellatrix, but something in what she saw had hurt her and her eyes were now downcast.

"What makes you think you have the right to speak to me?" Bellatrix snarled and she lunged, intending to yank down on the curtain of hair and bring her wand into the pale throat, but her body went straight through the girl, crashing to the concrete, and almost serenely the child moved backwards and stood above Bellatrix.

"What have you done? You promised … you promised we would be different." The last word was a whisper.

Seething, Bellatrix peered up, and the pixie face burst into view and she was briefly nonplussed because she'd seen it before, certainly. And then she was very young again, before Hogwarts, and she peered into the shattered mirror her mother had punched during one of her fits of madness, and that same broken face had swum before her, and trembling lips had declared, "I'm not like them. I won't become like them." She'd lifted a hand to the mirror, and the tip of a shard had bitten into her finger. She had watched as a river of blood formed, trained already to not cry out at pain. The river had seemed like an emblem of her determination then, a promise forged in blood pumped from her heart.

She laughed now. The laughter fell free and natural, not the practiced cackle from earlier but true merriment, rich and throaty. "I'm not like them?" she mocked. "I won't become like them? Did you really think that would happen?"

The laughter startled the girl, and for a moment she was caught like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed and frightened. The words made her back up several steps, and suddenly she was gone and the bubble burst and water pounded on the sprawled form of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her sides heaved with amusement.

Please review! This is my first hp fanfiction so I'd love feedback :D


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